Airborne
by RynnaJ
Summary: College dropout Alfred F. Jones's only goal in life was to live it up in New York City. No cares, no responsibilities, no problems. But when a trip to a mysterious auction turns into something unexpected, Alfred must cope with being thrust into the attention of a shadowy organization and becoming the 'owner' of one grumpy supernatural being. Human/Supernatural AU. USUK.
1. Chapter 1

Hey all!

Well after this had been floating around for a while, I finally decided to finish up and post it. This is supposed to be a multi-chapter story, but I might be slow on updates thanks to classes. I'll try to update whenever I can, but cut me some slack alright~?

A warning: Long intro is long. In fact, the first two chapters are both the introduction together. Please bear with me through my ridiculous wordiness. The next chapters won't be nearly as long and soon I'll be adding even more characters also!

Just to give credit where credit is due, Aiden is my friend's character for the personification of New York. Of course, the character is modified a little for the purposes of this story, since it's a human AU and I needed a douchey sort of guy. Sorry buddy!

Oh, and I lack a beta so please excuse any mistakes you might find until I get one. I hope you like it!

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"But seriously, what's the big hurry Mattie?" Alfred asked, shifting on the couch to get more comfortable as he watched his twin brother scurry around the brownstone. "You don't even have classes anymore. Just finals, right?"

"Yes but that's exactly why I have to get back." Matthew replied, using a finger to push his glasses up back up from where they had slipped down the bridge of his nose. He picked up a shoe from next to the coffee table and threw it in the suitcase that lay open on the living room floor. The bag had started out neatly packed, but soon became more of a mess as time passed and its owner became more desperate. "I really need to study and I've already been here way too long."

"Ouch. I'm hurt Matts. Was it really so bad to be back here with me for a few days?"

Matthew shook his head and sighed as he dropped to his jean-clad knees on the white carpet and began the struggle to close his suitcase, "You know that's not it, Al. I just have a lot of work to do. Besides, I'll be done in a few days and then we'll have all of Winter break together." He ran a hand through his thick blond hair as he contemplated the most effective way to rearrange the overstuffed piece of luggage.

Alfred rolled his eyes and leaned back into the dark red cushions with a huff. He and Matthew had moved from Washington D.C. to New York City a year and a half ago for school, and ever since things had become much more stressful. Alfred had attended NYU while Matthew earned a full scholarship to Columbia University, where he was hoping to pursue a career in medicine. Which was exactly why the other boy was currently in a rather panicked state; his classes were very challenging and there was a lot expected of him. In fact, if he didn't keep his grades up, he would lose his scholarship. Not that the two couldn't easily pay a full tuition, but it was the principle of the thing. "When I watch ya like this, it makes me happy that I dropped out."

Matthew looked up at his brother from where he sat on his suitcase, hoping the weight would coax it into closing, and frowned. Alfred had decided last summer that he was not going return to NYU for his sophomore year, and Matthew couldn't bring himself to accept nor understand the choice. But Alfred had his motives; being in that school hadn't made him feel like he was getting anywhere in his life and it didn't make him happy. So he'd left, and left behind his dreams of becoming an astronaut. He didn't feel as if those dreams were going anywhere, anyways. He knew that Matthew probably thought he was just lazy and unfocused, but it wasn't that simple. It couldn't be that simple; Alfred F. Jones was no quitter and therefore he knew that his reasoning had to be worth something. Even if he still couldn't fully explain the decision himself.

"Yes, well, some of us would like to have paying jobs." Matthew replied snippily, a bit of that snark he always pretended not to have showing through in his tone. Most people who met the tall, lanky, unassuming boy with the shy smile immediately thought him capable of nothing else but a soft voice and a honeyed disposition. Only Alfred knew that the sweet little package had quite a few sharp edges.

"Would you chill out, dude. I told you I was gonna look for a job eventually. It's not like we're going to run out of money anytime soon."

And they wouldn't. The two brothers had inherited their father's rather large amount of money after he was killed in a car accident about five years ago. The inheritance was more than enough to allow them to live a very comfortable lifestyle, and even to move to New York once they were of age and no longer needed Harrison around. The man had been a wonderful caretaker, but he was far too old to deal with the antics of two teenage boys. Well, one actually. Matthew was never one to stir the soup out of the pot, so he almost always followed the rules. But Alfred had been more than enough for the poor man, and even he couldn't be offended when Harrison was obviously the slightest bit happy to see them go.

Matthew huffed at him and stood up, brushing non-existent dirt from his shirt. "That doesn't mean you should just sit around and do nothing forever. What happened to your dream of becoming an astronaut? I know it isn't gone, Al. I still see you gazing at the stars all the time."

Alfred shrugged, "It's on hold I guess. Don't worry Matts, I'll be back on track before you know it! That's just how I work. After all, I never give up!"

"…Please don't start calling yourself 'the hero' again."

Alfred blew a raspberry into the air, "I haven't done that in forever! Dontcha ever let things go?"

"I know, but that hero complex of yours is still there no matter what you say." Matthew replied with a soft laugh, "Do you remember when you used to wear that blanket around your neck wherever you went? You called it your –"

"Super awesome hero cape." Alfred interrupted with a roll of his eyes, "Yeah I remember. And again, you never let things go."

Matthew smiled a little slyly, "Only because they're too funny to let go." The boy blew that one long, uncontrollable curl out of his face and looked around to make sure the room was in order. Matthew had a thing about leaving the house when it wasn't spick and span, even if he knew that Alfred would probably mess it up within a few hours of his departure. "Oh, I forgot to mention. I talked to Francis yesterday and he says he's going to come over in a couple days. I just wanted to let you know so you don't attack him when he comes in the door again."

Alfred shrugged. It hadn't been his fault that he'd forgotten the Frenchman had a key to the brownstone. "Yeah yeah. Is he bringing food over from the restaurant?" He asked, eyes lighting up in excitement over the prospect of Francis's cooking. Their childhood friend (more like their older brother, from the way he acted) had opened up his own restaurant in New York a couple years ago, and he'd been so excited when he found out Alfred and Matthew were moving to the city for school. Now, every once in a while, he would come and visit the boys with some left-overs in hand.

"Of course. You know how proud he is of his food. He just loves to watch us eat it."

"Pffft. Dude's like a blimp; completely full of hot air."

Matthew giggled at that. Even he couldn't deny that Francis was quite arrogant at times, though he supposed having women hang off of one's arm on a constant basis tended to do that. "Don't antagonize him when he gets here. You know he can talk circles around you."

"Yeah, I know. Nothing fazes the guy, it's so annoying." Alfred shifted on the couch so he was lying down on his back, with his legs dangling and kicking over the rounded armrest. "Anything else I should know?"

"Well, Kumajirou could use a bath soon. His fur's starting to look a little dusty."

Alfred sat up again immediately, "No way, man! I'm not dealing with that again! Last time nearly broke my sanity!"

Matthew shook his head, "You're being dramatic again Alfie. It's really not that bad. Just make it quick and you shouldn't have a problem with him."

As if on cue, the white, fluffy dog padded into the room and yawned widely. Kumajirou swiveled his perked up, almost rounded ears around and towards the source of both voices. As soon as his small black eyes landed on Matthew, he planted his feet to brace himself and began to bark, as if he was looking at a stranger.

Matthew's shoulders sagged in a slight sulk. "Kuma, it's me. Why don't you ever remember? I'm the one who feeds you."

The voice seemed to jog the small animal's memory, for he immediately stopped barking and waddled over to lean his side against Matthew's lower leg. Alfred snorted, amused. Ever since Matthew had found the dog wandering the D.C. streets as a puppy, the two had been pretty much inseparable, even if for some strange reason Kumajirou always seemed to forget who his owner was.

"I'm not giving the bear a bath." Alfred harrumphed, crossing his arms. "I actually _like_ not having bite marks on me."

Matthew gave him a long-suffering look and frowned a bit. "Why do you always call him that? And if you didn't keep doing it wrong, he wouldn't bite you."

"I call him a bear because he acts like one! Hell, he even looks like a little polar bear." Alfred responded, sending a scowl down at Kumajirou, who simply looked up at him and twitched his little black nose. "He's a vicious little evil mastermind when anyone but you tries to even get him near the tub. I swear he plans out his attacks. Like when he made me fall into the tub that one time!"

The memory caused Matthew to start laughing softly and bend over to give the dog a pat. "Well I guess he just doesn't like the way you give him baths. But you still have to do it, you know." He said, giving Alfred a stern look.

Alfred rolled his eyes, "I know. Gotta make sure your 'precious dog' is clean."

"That's right." After one last stroke of downy white fur, Matthew pushed Kumajirou away gently with a nudge of his leg. "I have to get going now Al. You're trying to stall again, I can tell." He looked to Alfred and gave a gentle smile, "Try not to do anything too wild while I'm away, eh?"

"Whatever dude, you're such a buzz kill." Alfred stood from the couch and made his way lazily over to Matthew and gave his twin a pat on the shoulder. "You're already looking like the walking dead, Mattie. Don't kill yourself trying to study, alright?"

"I won't, I won't." Matthew knelt down to take hold of the handle of his suitcase, then stood again with a quiet grunt as he pulled up the weight of the bag.

"Super." But Alfred knew that his brother would be spending many hours, possibly overnight, studying for those tests. And he also knew that nothing he said would stop Matthew from doing so. But then again, he was certain that Matthew knew that he probably would not just sit around in the house and do nothing. The soft-spoken boy was aware of how much Alfred disliked staying in an empty house alone. He also knew how Alfred hated it when he was gone for long periods of time. Sometimes Alfred would think about all the things that could happen to Matthew when he was gone for days and days, things that Alfred wouldn't find out about until a long while after they occurred. It was a scary thought, and it made his natural protective streak, or "hero complex" as Matthew called it, flare up.

But Alfred never liked to dwell too long on those kinds of thoughts. He didn't see any point in moping and worrying through life like the world was going to end in a few months. Even if he did believe all of those 2012 apocalypse stories, and he was not going to decide either way because you never know, the world is a strange place, he'd rather spend the whole time living it up rather than shivering in the dark. Maybe he'd finally go skydiving this year, just in case.

"I'll be back soon. Try not to space out like this too much while I'm gone, you could end up missing a burglary."

The sound of his brother's voice snapped Alfred out of his thoughts again, and he glanced towards the front hall. Matthew had the door propped open with one leg as he struggled to pull his favorite red hoodie onto his lanky form. When his head emerged again, he gave Alfred another smile.

"Bye Al."

"See ya, Matts."

Matthew took hold of the handle of his suitcase again, grabbed his car keys off of the small table next to the door, and was gone after one last wave.

Kumajirou barked twice, as if that would be enough to bring his owner back, and he padded over to the door to sit directly in front of it. He then proceeded to paw at the barrier between him and Matthew, giving a low, unhappy whine as his nails scratched small grooves into the dark, polished wood.

"No little dude, we're not starting that again." Alfred said sternly. The dog had started doing this the first time Matthew left for an extended period, and had not stopped ever since. Before Alfred had chosen not to go back to school, both brothers had lived mainly in the brownstone and left from there to attend their classes. But now that Alfred was home almost all of the time, Matthew had chosen to spend most of his nights in college housing, closer to the Columbia campus; the lack of commute helped take some of the stress away from his difficult, tiring class schedule. Kumajirou suddenly found that his owner would go missing for days at a time, and he did not like that one bit. He was distressed enough that, if Alfred let him, he would sit in front of the door for hours. That was an unhealthy amount of focus for the lazy mutt, who preferred to sleep most of his day away under normal circumstances.

Alfred marched over to the door, sliding slightly on the hardwood floor with his socked feet, and bent down to pick the dog up around his middle. With a grunt, he stood straight up again and started back towards the living room. "You're heavier than you look, bud. It might be diet time."

Kumajirou let out a small growl, as if he'd understood the insult, and started squirming in the hold, wanting to be set down. Alfred gave a laugh and set him down on the couch, patting the dog's head until he settled down into a curled up ball on the cushion. Sighing, the boy joined him, flopping down on the couch and slouching until his back was almost parallel with the ground.

"Now what?" Alfred asked himself as he stared at the ceiling and propped his feet up on the dark wood of the coffee table. He could watch some TV, he supposed, he'd recorded a new episode of that ghost show. But in the end he decided not too; it's not that it scared him or anything, he just wasn't in the mood! That's all!

The slow, stay-at-home life was really not Alfred's style. He liked to go out and roam the streets, or go to parties and just lose himself in the never-ending alcohol and pulsing music. But he hadn't been able to go to many of those parties since he decided not to return to college. Alfred snickered a bit as he recalled how he would practically drag his bookwormish Japanese roommate to every party he could. Hmm, he hadn't seen Kiku in a while; he would have to call him up at some point.

But that did not help him right now, and he was already starting to get bored out of his mind. The hyperactive 19-year-old needed something to occupy him at almost all times, or he started getting restless, which usually led to something breaking in the house (he'd apologized for breaking Matthew's glass moose statue while playing indoor baseball abouta million times, but his brother never forgave him for that one.)

Alfred looked around blearily for a few more moments, trying to decide a way in which to occupy himself. The lack of another's presence in the house was making him antsy; he hated it when Matthew went off and left him alone in this place.

"Maybe I should go on a walk." He said aloud to himself, as he was often prone to do when he was alone. "Hmm, Aiden might be around. That'd make things more exciting at least…."

Suddenly, with a gasp, he remembered that he had indeed arranged to meet with his supplier today. "Shit." He said quietly as he pulled his cellphone out of his pocket to look at the time: 12:37. He'd agreed to meet with Aiden at 12:30, and now he had to walk to the street corner where the other boy usually hung out, which would make him even later.

"Haha, he's gonna be pissed that I took so long!" He exclaimed, popping up from the couch and turning around to give the dog a wide grin, as if the animal had been the one he'd been talking to. Kumajirou stopped cleaning his paw momentarily to look up at Alfred with a bored expression. "Hey." Alfred said dryly, pointing a finger at the dog, "Don't give me that look, bear. I don't need your judgment."

He didn't stick around to see Kumajirou yawn and return to cleaning himself, as he was already off and into the kitchen to grab his wallet from atop the marble counter. Flipping open the beat up leather, he flicked through the bills inside with his thumb, counting. "Da, da, da, da,da…..perfect! That should be enough." The young man closed the wallet and stuffed it into the back pocket of his worn-out jeans, then snatched his house key off of the countertop as well.

He slid into the front room and made his way quickly to the closet by the front door, swinging it open and using a heel to drag out his red Converses. After a bit of hopping around, he managed to get the shoes onto his feet and the laces tied. Then he carefully pulled out his bomber jacket, brushing off the worn brown leather with a small smile before stuffing his arm into one sleeve and swinging it on.

"Be back later Kuma!" He called back into the living room, as if the dog actually cared about where he was going. When he got the expected silence as an answer, he shrugged and swung the door open.

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Alfred shivered when he stepped out into the brisk winter air, pulling his coat tighter around himself as he turned to slam the door shut and lock it with slightly trembling fingers. He had always been more of a summer person, and it didn't take much for him to start shivering. Matthew would always make fun of him for it, but it wasn't Alfred's fault that his brother seemed to have become some sort of Eskimo during the years he'd spent in Canada. The boy could handle the cold as if he had that layer of fat polar bears used to survive the frozen tundra. Alfred grinned slyly as he skipped down the steps of the brownstone; he would have to use that one to get back at Matthew some time.

He shoved his hands into his pockets and peered around, eyes squinting as a frigid breeze blew directly into his face. He and Mattie had really lucked out when they managed to find a place in Brooklyn Heights; real estate was tight and it had taken quite a bit of charming and negotiation to earn their place in one of New York's nicest neighborhoods. That, and a lot of delving into their deep pockets. Matthew had loved the place immediately, and Alfred supposed that it did suit him. The area was quiet and clean, and the crisp architecture of the buildings pressed together like they were best friends was pleasing to the eye. He could understand why a home here was so sought after.

But Alfred had always liked being right in the middle of things, surrounded by the hustle and bustle of fast paced, American life. He had hoped they would find an apartment further into the city, where cars raced and the lights shone brightly and he could watch the people walk by and wonder where they were going and why they were in such a hurry. In the heart of New York City, where he could step outside and immediately see three pizza shops, hear a cacophony of street music, and get lost in the writhing, pulsing, ever-changing rhythm of human life. Where he could lose himself easily in the push and pull, if he was so inclined, or shout at the top of his lungs in the middle of a crowd and have thousands of eyes turn his way. And maybe they would be judging but they would also be recognizing, and that was all Alfred really wanted anyways.

This neighborhood was just too quiet, and as he walked down the sidewalk Alfred found himself looking out for a sign of life. Perhaps a couple arguing loudly or a shabby-dressed man with a scraggly beard and a crooked grin and banging a rhythm on a bucket drum to earn a bit of spare change from passersby.

Alfred decided he would definitely have to take another trip to Time Square soon as he continued to walk, fast approaching the street corner that was his destination. Already he could see a familiar figure standing there, leaning against a lamppost and fiddling with the zipper on a thick black hoodie. The darker skinned young man looked up as Alfred approached and furrowed his black brows as he scowled in annoyance.

"Took ya long enough, Jones." He spat out in a thick Brooklyn accent, "I was standin here freezing my balls off while you took your sweet time."

"Sorry Aiden, I was just sayin bye to my brother." Alfred replied, giving the other boy a charming, apologetic grin, "I'm guessing ya got the good stuff and some news, yeah?"

The boy huffed and nodded, "Yeah I got it, s'long as you got the cash." His lips then spread into a sly, knowing smirk, "And it just so happens that I _have _heard about something interesting goin down tonight."

"Really? Well you gotta tell me all about it, man." Alfred slid a hand out of his coat and held it out to accept the small bag of weed Aiden passed to him, and then stuffed it and his hand back into his pocket, "Is it another party? The last one you told me about was pretty fuckin awesome."

Alfred had met Aiden Lavelle nearly a year ago, when he was fresh into the New York area. A friend of his at NYU had recommended him as a dealer, and it just so happened that the boy lived in Brooklyn Heights as well, just a few blocks away from Alfred. Along with being a dealer, Aiden always seemed to know what exciting things were going on in the city and was the go-to guy when one was lacking something to on a Friday night. He was one of those kids that grew up with a rich family and in a wealthy neighborhood, but acted as if he rejected that lifestyle. Aiden was never lacking for money or connections, and Alfred suspected that was why he always seemed to know about all the best underground parties. But judging by the other's current, shrewd demeanor, what he was talking about this time was no regular gathering.

"Nah Jones, this ain't no party." Aiden drawled out, proving Alfred's assumption correct, "What's happenin tonight is an _auction_."

"An auction?" Alfred questioned as he fished payment out of his other pocket and offered it, "You mean like, one of those things where they hold up some kinda antique and people bid on it? Why would I want to know about that?"

"Not just any auction, bro." The boy replied, rolling his eyes and snatching the money, "An auction of rare creatures. As in, the organization runnin it finds animals and things with cool mutations and offers them as pets to the highest bidder. It sounds fuckin insane right? We have to go just to see that shit, man!"

"Dude, why would I want to go watch some sketchy guys sell cats with three legs." Alfred responded dryly, pulling his hands out of his pockets to cross his arms over his chest.

"No, dammit. I'm not talkin any normal ass mutations." Aiden said smarmily, then leaned in conspiratorially, "I'm talkin about dogs with two fuckin working heads and rats the size pigs. That's the crazy shit these people travel all around the world to find. It's fuckin nuts!"

Alfred raised an eyebrow at that, not completely believing the other. But he had to admit, he was very much intrigued. He had always been a fan of the supernatural and abnormal, and Aiden had never steered him wrong before. Besides, all he'd planned to do tonight was laze around on the couch, perhaps with a box of pizza and an old superhero movie. At least this sounded exciting, if anything.

"Fine Aiden, we'll go to this thing. If only to show ya that it's complete bullshit. And I'm not buying anything either." Alfred agreed after a few moments of silence, letting his hands drop to his sides, "I don't even know how you find out about this shit, man. Where is it, and when are we going?"

Aiden grinned and took a step back, satisfied that he'd convinced his companion, "Oh, trust me Jones. This is legitimate. Ya know I have my sources." He rubbed his ungloved hands together in an attempt to warm them, "It's goin down in the basement of this abandoned warehouse downtown. Meet me here at midnight and we'll take the subway, got it?"

"Yeah I got it. Here at midnight." Alfred turned away partially, ready to head back home and get out of this ridiculous cold. He really hated the cold. "See ya later, dude." He said with a grin, "Try not to get into any trouble. And this thing tonight better be awesome."

"Oh, it will be." Aiden replied, turning his back to Alfred and waving a hand dismissively, "Later then."

Alfred stared at the hoodie-clad back for a brief moment, then shrugged and began to walk away. As he hummed along to the rhythm his sneakers slapped against the concrete, he felt something akin to worry bubble up in his stomach. Something didn't seem right about this, Alfred could feel it in his gut. And he always trusted his gut. But he figured that he'd go anyways, see what was going on. If anything seriously unethical was going on, he could always leave the building and tell the police about it.

"Yeah." He muttered to himself, looking up at the hazy white winter sky and smiling widely, "That'd definitely make me the hero."

As he made his way back to the brownstone, all he could think was one thing:

Mattie would be so pissed off if he found out about all of this.


	2. Chapter 2

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"Aiden, are we there yet? I feel like we've been walking forever."

"Calm your ass down Jones, its right in that warehouse over there. See." Aiden pointed a gloved finger out, and Alfred squinted through the night in that direction only to see a dark, rundown, obviously abandoned building.

"You're kidding right? That place looks like it's about to come down at any second."

"It's not in the rickety part, it's underneath it. In the basement." Aiden shoved his hands into his pockets and stepped into one of the circles of hazy orange light underneath a street lamp and turning to look at his companion. "Come on man, I'm not messin with ya. I know it's there, I got sources remember?"

Alfred snorted and walked by him briskly, "Yeah, sure dude. Let's hurry up then, its freezing."

As the two young men quickened their pace and grew closer to the worn-down building, Alfred started to wonder what exactly he was doing here. Usually Aiden led him to very interesting, exciting places, but the more he thought about what this 'auction' might entail, the more ominous it seemed. Even the dark street around them was eerily devoid of the sounds of people and traffic.

"You sure this isn't something sketchy?" He asked, looking to Aiden with eyes narrowed in suspicion. "We're not going to get kidnapped or something, are we?"

Aiden rolled his eyes and continued walking, not even bothering to answer that question. He led Alfred around to the back of the building and stepped up to a rusty metal door, banging on it with a fist three times. Alfred watched curiously, wondering whether someone would actually answer the door or if his friend had gone off the deep end with this whole thing.

But sure enough, a little hatch slid open at the top of the door and two eyes peered through it. "What do you want?" The man on the other side asked in a gruff voice.

"We're here for the auction." Aiden replied evenly; as if this was something he did often, talk to strange men through creepy doors. But sure enough, the little hatch slid closed and the door was swung open moments later with a loud creak, revealing a large, broad chested man with a stony expression.

"Down the stairs." The man said simply, gesturing to a staircase situated across the large, open room of the warehouse. Aiden nodded and started walking, but Alfred stood for a moment, just staring at the sheer size of the man who had directed them. A hand tugging at his arm snapped him out of it, and he grinned sheepishly and followed an annoyed-looking Aiden to the stairs.

"Down the stairs." Alfred imitated in a low, deep voice, earning a sharp grin from the other boy as they made their way down the wide staircase. The further down they went, the more noise they started to hear. Alfred could now clearly make out muffled voices, and it sounded as if there were a lot of them. "We must be getting close."

Aiden nodded his agreement as they stepped down into a wide, dark hallway, lit only by one flickering lamp overhead. The voices were louder now, and they were obviously coming from behind the large metal doors situated on the wall to their right. The two young men looked to each other and nodded, then placed their hands onto the cold metal to push the heavy doors open.

It was as if a switch had been flipped. As soon as those obviously soundproofed doors swung open, a roar of loud chatter and laughing assaulted them, a testament to the large number of people that were here for this auction. Alfred squinted as bright fluorescent lights burned his eyes and looked around the large, open area. The seating area for the crowd was split into two halves and held in by a corral made of wooden posts and coarse rope. This left a wide walkway between the halves, which ran up the entire length of the room and to a large, metal temporary stage. Multiple men sat in fold-out metal chairs which ran along the back and sides of the stage, leaving the middle an open space save for the wooden podium that sat situated towards the front. This was obviously where the auctioneer would be standing. Two closed, large metal doors were situated behind the stage, presumably hiding the area where the creatures for auction were being kept.

"This is crazy." Alfred breathed out, looking around with widened eyes. "There are so many people here!" He glanced to the side only to find himself making eye contact with a large, burly man. Judging by the shotgun in his hands, the man was obviously a guard. Alfred turned around and found a similar man on the other side of the door as well. "Why would they need guards like this? Do you see the size of those guns!" Alfred leaned forward to hiss in Aiden's ear. The other boy shrugged and just walked forward towards the left side of the crowd, leaving Alfred to once again wonder what exactly was wrong with his friend. He apparently wasn't right in the head, if he was so cool about all of this.

But nevertheless, Alfred followed him through the opening in the corral as they pushed their way around and between the crowd seating area and towards the front. It wasn't long before they gave up on that prospect, and instead pushed towards the side until they were situated next to the walkway. Alfred stumbled forward a bit and huffed angrily when yet another person behind him shoved an elbow into his back and then sat down in one of the cheap metal chairs.

"So now what do we do?" He called out over the noise of the crowd.

Aiden grinned at him, "We wait."

"Of course." Alfred said dryly, sighing and poking his head out to the side to see whether the auctioneer was coming on stage yet.

But no, the auctioneer was not coming on the stage yet. In fact, Alfred ended up having to sit in a crowd of loud, elbow-throwing people for a good 20 minutes before a sharply dressed man stepped onto the stage and finally asked that everyone settle down. The auction was beginning.

Alfred rolled his eyes and leaned back in chair, giving a dramatic sigh. "Finally."

"Shhh." Aiden chided him and pointed towards the stage. "Shit's about to go down."

The man in the far-too-sharp suit looked down his nose at the crowd, and then spoke again. "This is the way it will work. I will give you a starting price, and then if you have a higher bid, you raise your hand and call it out. The prize goes to the highest bidder. There are no loopholes and no complexities; that is it. Follow the rules and stay calm, or I will have one of these gentleman escort you out of the building."

Alfred laughed a bit as the auctioneer gestured towards two other rather large men with rather large guns. "How many of those dudes do they have? Where do they find them all?" He asked quietly, nudging Aiden in the side with his elbow, "You think there's a store somewhere?"

Aiden snickered a bit. "You're an idiot, Jones. Now shut the hell up, they're gonna bring one of those weird ass things on stage soon." And sure enough, the two large doors situated behind the stage began to open, and Alfred leaned forward in his seat in anticipation.

Two more burly looking men came through the doors and onto the stage, holding a large, square cage between the two of them. And what was inside made Alfred's jaw drop.

A small, orange-furred monkey jumped about and screeched, grasping at the bars holding it in with every single one of its limbs. Its six limbs.

"This monkey was born with an incredibly rare genetic mutation that produced 4 complete and fully functional arms." The auctioneer said, gesturing towards the grunting monkey, "It's a prize for any rare animal collector indeed. Bidding will start at $8,000 for an animal worth at least 3 times as much. And….begin."

Immediately hands began to rise up and numbers were shouted out, the amount of money growing steadily higher and higher until at last only one hand and one number remained unchallenged. The auctioneer waited a few more moments, then banged his gavel.

"Sold for $14,000. Next animal." He called back through the doors.

Alfred couldn't even speak as he watched creatures cycle through one by one; creatures he could never have even dreamed actually existed. There was a miniature full grown Siberian tiger, a komodo dragon looking lizard with actual working wings, a parrot who could have intelligent conversation (no one believed this until it started answering audience questions), and a horse with six fully functioning legs.

"This…this is insane, dude." Alfred whispered, unable to take his eyes off the stage. Part of him couldn't believe that any of this was real, but at the same time he was seeing it right before his eyes. He didn't know what to think anymore. He looked over at Aiden, and the other boy seemed just as entranced, mouth slack and eyes wide.

One by one, animals were led on and then off of the stage after being claimed, tossing heads and stomping and growling all the way out. Alfred was on the edge of his seat just trying to figure out what could possibly come next, what other incredible, unbelievable things would emerge from those doors behind the stage.

"There is only one item left to auction." The auctioneer suddenly announced, scanning his eyes over the crowd and falling into a dramatic silence for a moment, "This is the most valuable of them all and bidding will start at $20,000." With that, he fell silent again as if giving the reveal more of an air of mystery. Alfred was practically shaking by now, eyes wide behind his glasses and his heart starting to beat faster.

And then the doors were opening again, and two large, unpleasant looking men stepped forth, frowning at the audience and furrowing their brows behind dark sunglasses. But they weren't the ones grabbing the most attention, nor were they meant to be. It was the man between them that was the star of this show.

The man was young looking, perhaps in his mid-twenties from what Alfred could see, and on the shorter side. His light blonde hair was tousled and tangled hopelessly, a part of it matted with something dark that could only be blood. He was dressed only in a sheath of white cloth spanning from one shoulder down to his knees, the fabric clean and neat as if they had attempted to spruce the man up but didn't bother washing the blood from his hair. The body underneath was pale-skinned and slender, and the wiry muscle of his arms was flexing and straining as he pulled at the handcuffs binding his wrists together in front of him.

But none of this was the first thing that Alfred noticed about the man. What stuck out the most, glowing and almost ethereal, were a pair of sharp and absolutely furious green eyes. Those eyes, already on the darker side of green, darkened even more as the man's lips spread to bare his teeth in a snarl as he was pushed forward harshly by the two men behind him. He stumbled on bare feet towards the front of the stage, his eyes squinting in the harsh lighting meant to illuminate him, show him in all his essence to the crowd. Sell him.

Alfred immediately growled and started standing from his seat, "Is that…are they selling a _man_!?" He hissed, feeling fury rise in his chest. A hand pushing down on his shoulder caused him to whip his head around to glare at Aiden, who was scowling at him and pushing him down into his seat.

"Calm the hell down, man."

"Calm down? They're selling a man. A fucking human!" Alfred shot back furiously, but keeping his voice low to keep one of the guards, who was now staring intently at him, from coming over. "You said this was just animals! You didn't mention it was a slave trade!"

"I didn't know!" Aiden growled back, his brows furrowing in anger, "How the fuck was I supposed to know? All of the other things sold were animals!"

"He may not seem like much…" The auctioneer suddenly piped up, capturing the attention of both boys again, "But this one is something special indeed." He turned around and gestured to one of the men holding the smaller man's upper arm, and was given a nod in return. The bulky guard stepped behind his charge, who twitched and struggled again at having someone behind him and out of sight, and began to fiddle with something at his back.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I give you….the winged man."

Right on cue, the captive man snarled furiously and two large appendages were shooting out suddenly. The force was so strong that the guard who'd been behind him was sent flying as he was hit, landing on the floor with a loud 'oomph'. But no one paid any mind to that guard, and instead a chorus of loud gasps and a deathly silence overtook the entire area.

Outstretched and quivering, beating slightly at the air, was a pair of large, powerful white wings. Each one was nearly the length of the man himself, and they curled in slightly, protectively as members of the audience started to point and whisper amongst themselves. The feathers ruffled and shook slightly in the breeze of the atrium, then fluffed out and seemed to almost sharpen as their owner stared harshly at the audience, baring his teeth once more.

Alfred felt his mouth go completely dry, and he didn't think his eyes could grow any larger than they were right at that moment, staring at something that looked like it was straight out of a fantasy novel. He was utterly transfixed on those twitching wings as his mind fought to process what he was seeing and his heart set to racing. It seemed as if the entire audience was in that state now; the whispers and gasps swelling further, growing.

And then the trance was broken as a loud roar signaled the stricken guard getting back to his feet. The man charged at the smaller, winged man, arms outstretched to grab him and tackle him to the ground. Wings shot out again in defense, both surging forward to block the approaching man and shoot him backwards and completely off of the stage with their strength. There the guard landed with a sickening thud and there he stayed, knocked out cold.

The winged man pulled at his handcuffs and started beating his wings harder, as if to take flight, as he struggled to get away and off of the stage. The second guard backed up to avoid being hit by one of the flailing feathered appendages and yelled something incoherent at the auctioneer. Screams and gasps of disbelief were rising into the air as the audience witnessed the whole incident, the people in the front most rows standing from their chairs and backing up to get as far away from the winged man as possible.

Alfred leaned forward again in his seat, his heart pounding as he felt like he was experiencing the same sort of adrenaline rush as the man onstage, who was looking around wildly for an exit, an escape. The boy, through the haze of disbelief in his mind, found himself rooting for the winged man, and he didn't even realize the 'yesses' and 'go's' he was muttering under his breath until Aiden elbowed him in the side.

Then as quickly as the excitement started, it was over. With a sudden loud yelp of pain, the winged man went crashing down to his knees, his entire body quivering and twitching as he writhed in what could only be agony. And then he was still, panting hard and shaking as the guard still standing grabbed both weakened wings and pulled them back harshly, forcing them to fold up against the man's back and buckling them with some strange sort of harness so they could move no longer. The large man grabbed at an arm and pulled his captive back up onto shaky feet.

That was when Alfred first noticed the collar around the winged man's neck. It was a dark chrome color, and a little red light flashed in the middle of it. When the small man whimpered a little and started pulling at the metal around his neck, Alfred figured that the collar must have been the cause of his pain. The boy's mouth curled into a deep scowl and he narrowed his eyes furiously at the abuse he'd just witnessed, and he wanted nothing more than to scream at the guard holding tight to the smaller man to let him go. But the guard that had been keeping an eye on Alfred before was now standing right next to him, watching him with sharp eyes to warn him away from an outburst. Alfred growled slightly at him but calmed himself, turning his gaze back to the stage.

"Now then." The Auctioneer said, gaining back the attention of the room, "Let's get to the selling, shall we? As I said before, bidding starts at just $20,000 for this rare and incredible creature. Go."

The start of the bidding was met with only silence, as looks ranging from nervousness to disbelief to anger were put onto the slightly shaking man onstage. No one put their hand up and no one called out a number. In fact, nothing was said at all until finally a man towards the back of the crowd piped up.

"_Bullshit!"_

The auctioneer narrowed his eyes and searched for that man in the crowd, only to be bombarded by similar yells of distrust and incredulity. Though they had believed in the mutated animals brought before them earlier, nobody seemed to think that such an unbelievable thing as a winged human could be possible. _Animatronics,_ came a yell. _Illusions_, came another. The man at the podium frowned at anyone who spoke up, before finally sighing and setting down his gavel.

"If I cannot convince any of you, then this specimen will have to wait for another auction. Another town." He boomed, "I'm not going to waste my time making you believe. Guard, take him away." He said with a wave of his hand. The guard holding onto the winged man nodded and tugged hard, pulling the captive further backstage.

"What the fuck!" Alfred said aloud, anger and disgust rising like a lump in his throat, "This is all a human life is worth to these people? They won't even buy him just to set him free!?"

"They don't think it's real, man!" Aiden hissed to him. The boy was sending a nasty glare Alfred's way and gritting his teeth in annoyance. This was apparently not the way he'd wanted this night to go. "Hell, I don't think that shit's real either! A human with fucking wings…."

Alfred made a strangled noise of fury in the back of his throat and whipped out his cellphone in preparation to call the police and bust this entire messed up organization. But to his surprise, there was no reception to be found. In fact, his phone was turned off completely, as if it had been fried as soon as he stepped into the room, just to prevent him from doing such a thing. He looked up at the guard standing next to him, and the smug look on the big man's face was all the proof he needed that his assumption had been correct. He gripped his cellphone tightly and gritted his teeth, a muscle in his jaw twitching as he tried to figure out what to do. What he possibly _could_ do.

"Then I'll buy him!" Alfred said finally, shoving his phone back into his pocket. "I have the money, I can swing it."

"Are you crazy?" Aiden barked, "Dude, just let it the hell go! Why would you waste your money on this bullshit? It's not fucking real!"

"I'm not buying him because he has wings!" Alfred snapped back, sending a heated look Aiden's way. He couldn't believe how completely nonchalant the other was acting towards this atrocity. This entire auction was absolutely revolting, and all Aiden was worried about was wasting some damn money. "I'm buying him because this isn't right, dude! You don't sell people like they're animals!"

"People do this every day, Alfred." The dark-haired boy threw back, matching Alfred's glare, "You think you're stopping anything? You think you're stopping this fucking organization? Well I'm tellin you that you're not! Don't get yourself into something like this, man." He said, shaking his head. "I've heard things about this organization. This isn't a damn game, this is some serious shit! You might be getting yourself in huge fucking trouble for some guy you don't even know!"

Alfred was silent for a moment, his eyes darting down to the dirty concrete floor. He knew that Aiden was right; that he wasn't stopping anything by helping this one man. He knew that, no matter how much it made something in his stomach twist and coil in abhorrence, that in the time it took him to get home tonight, this organization could possibly have sold multiple victims into terrifying circumstances.

But as he looked up to the man being presented like a prized animal on the stage, he saw those intense green eyes locked on him again. Alfred hesitated for a moment, afraid of what he might find in those eyes, before meeting the gaze.

The winged man's stare was sharp, unyielding and unwavering. He looked at Alfred like the boy was the most repulsive thing he'd ever seen in his life, and suddenly Alfred felt lower than the filthy concrete beneath his feet. He could see the tinges of wild fear in those eyes even from where he stood, but what captivated Alfred was the pride and determination that accompanied that fear. The man on that stage was not broken, far from it.

Suddenly Alfred felt an uncontrollable urge to prove everyone wrong. To prove to Aiden that even saving one life was worth everything he had in his bank account, let alone the relatively small amount he was offering here. To prove that even if he couldn't stop the crimes of this organization, that he could at least make a difference for this one man right here and right now. And he would prove to this man that continued to glare at him with such ferocity that he was not like these others. It may have been his 'hero complex' acting up again, but damn it he was going to buy this man his freedom.

"Yeah. You're right." He said softly. He glanced to Aiden with a determined grin, then looked back to the auctioneer on the stage and stood from his chair, lifting his hand into the air, "I'll buy him!" He yelled out loudly.

Deafening silence again, then the rustling and screeching sounds of hundreds of people turning around in their seats to stare right at Alfred. The young man swallowed nervously at the eyes on him, but kept himself firm and his mind set. "You heard me." He said, frowning towards everyone staring at him.

The auctioneer blinked in shock for a few seconds, and then dramatically pointed towards Alfred, "We have a buyer! For $20,000. Does anyone want to raise the price? Anyone at all?" The man's eyes flitted across the room, looking for another raised hand. "Anyone? Ten seconds to raise the price." When those ten seconds passed with no one speaking out, a gavel was pounded, signaling the end of the sale. "Sold."

The winged man whipped his head around at the word and pulled at the bindings at his wrists, only for the guard holding him to punch him solidly in the ribs, causing him to double over and wince. Alfred clenched his jaw and balled his hands into fists at the sight, but said nothing. The last thing he wanted to do was antagonize these people and threaten both of their lives. The winged man was promptly dragged offstage and through those doors behind and out of sight.

"That concludes the auction, then." The auctioneer announced, stepping away from the podium and nodding to the crowd. "All who have made purchases can collect them behind the stage. Everyone else, please make your way towards the exits." With that, he turned around and walked offstage, disappearing behind those doors as well.

More screeching and loud chatter started up as everyone rose almost simultaneously from their seats and headed towards the back doors, crowding up the aisles and pushing at each other in the way they were all packed together as they tried to leave.

Alfred sighed and stood from his seat again, brushing imaginary dirt off from his jeans. "Well, I guess I gotta go collect my prize." He said, turning to look at Aiden and frowning at the very irritated look on the other's face.

"Jones, do you even have any money here?" Aiden asked in a hiss, "And how are you going to get home? You can't take that thing on the subway."

Alfred furrowed his brow a bit; he hadn't really thought through this that much. "I…no. But I can always just write them a check or something…."

"With what checkbook?" Aiden crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head. "You know what? Whatever, man. Good luck with all that. I'm not going to get myself more caught up with this group. I'm going home." He stepped over the barrier next to their seats and shoved his hands in his pockets as he headed out. "Try not to get yourself killed." He called back flatly as he left, disappearing in the crowd.

Alfred faltered a bit and stared after Aiden, then waved his arms around frantically. "What? Wait! Don't just leave…." He sighed when he realized that Aiden was already almost out the door. Well there went any help he could have had. "Great. Thanks a lot. You're a real pal." He grumbled to himself as he hopped the barrier and started pushing through the exiting crowd to head towards the stage along with the others who had won their bids.

The amount of people around him as he moved towards the back was almost suffocating, and he took a dramatically deep breath as he finally reached the end of the crowd before straightening up and stepping up over the stage towards the doors situated behind it. The other buyers followed suit, and soon they were all standing at the double doors. Alfred reached out and pulled at a handle, but the door wouldn't budge so he huffed in annoyance and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Yo, do you want your money or not?" He called out flatly.

As soon as the words left his mouth, the doors swung open and a guard in a crisp black suit stood there with an irritated look, most likely caused by Alfred, "Come in." He said cryptically, stepping back so the little crowd of people could walk through.

"Thanks bro." Alfred replied as he strolled in, only to be immediately grabbed by the arm by yet another guard. "What the hell? Why are you guys everywhere?" He snapped as he was dragged in a certain direction. "Let me go!"

"We're taking you to your purchase." The man replied coldly, "Keep mouthing off, and you'll leave with some bruises too."

The bespectacled boy snorted but went silent; letting himself get pulled along further back into the large storage room they seemed to be in now. All around the walls were cages, large and small, filled with the animals that had been auctioned off before. The four-armed monkey jumped to the front of his cage and screeched as his buyer approached, and the multi-legged horse snorted and thrashed its head as a buyer took its reins.

Alfred was staring wide-eyed once again, and didn't realize he had stopped walking until he felt a harder tug at his arm. He was sent careening forward a bit, glaring at the guard as he straightened up again. "Yeah, yeah, I'm walking." He snapped.

The guard sent him a smug smile and led him to the farthest corner of the room, where three more men dressed in a similar way and armed stood tall and still. Behind them, held by yet another guard at the shoulder, was the winged man. He looked exhausted and seemed to be struggling to stand straight, but still kept his chin up defiantly and his eyes sharp.

"Here you go, this is what you spent all that money on." The guard guiding Alfred said smoothly, pulling Alfred in front of him and shoving him in the back to push him forward towards his purchase. "Go ahead and get acquainted. We're setting up the car to get him home with you. If you have a car here, that's too bad because we're not letting either of you out of our sight until you're inside your house."

Alfred grumbled and turned around to glare at the guard, "I don't have a car. And fine, whatever." He said, trying to tamp down the nervousness that was rising in his chest. These men would know where he lived now. Hell, they'd probably find out everything about him now, because that's what sketchy organizations always did. Shaking his head, he tried to clear his mind of fear for now by focusing his attention on the man he'd just spent a good chunk of his and Matthew's money on.

He noticed that the man was indeed rather young, older than Alfred but probably not by any more than a few years. He appeared even shorter face-to-face than he did on the stage, his frame obviously smaller than Alfred's, and leaner. Too lean, and the boy wondered how long it had been since this man had eaten a good meal.

As Alfred glanced over the man's face, the first things that stood out amongst the various bruises and scrapes were the rather massive eyebrows. Currently they were close together as they furrowed over those intense green eyes, eyes that were staring right at Alfred with a look of accusation. Maybe the man had noticed the way Alfred had been staring at his eyebrows and was offended, but in Alfred's defense they were a bit fascinating.

And then there were the wings. Alfred still couldn't bring himself to think they were actually real, but they certainly looked authentic. They were twitching slightly in their restrained position folded against the man's back, and some of the feathers on the outside were slightly bristled. As Alfred looked over them, he was reminded of the wings of an eagle, like the one he had on a patriotic poster in his bedroom. They were large, reaching down to the backs of the man's knees, and the feathers lining the outside of the wings were crisp and almost sharp looking, with larger, longer feathers at the very ends of the wings. The feathers themselves were pure white in color, though some of the ones lining what Alfred could see of the inside of the wings were a little darker, nearing a cream color. He was only looking at them folded up, but Alfred was already completely fascinated, and he stared for a long while.

"Alright, preparations are done." The guard who had brought Alfred in said as he approached once more behind the boy. "We have to get going kid. The sooner we get you home, the sooner you pay us."

The voice coming from directly behind him caused Alfred to jump and yelp a little in surprise before he whipped around to see an irritated looking guard holding out what looked to be a chain.

"Yeah, yeah, alright. Let's go then." Alfred replied dryly, then pointed at the chain. "What's that for?"

The guard raised a brow and pointed over the boy's shoulder, towards the winged man behind him. "Who else? Now just clip it onto his collar there and let's get going. And don't worry, if he gives you any trouble, he's going to regret it." He punctuated the last words with a smug smile, to which the winged man scowled in response. Obviously there was a relationship here that Alfred wasn't aware of.

"Oh….yeah. Sure." Alfred agreed softly, turning back around to face his 'winning'. The chain was rather heavy, and the idea of leading around another person on a leash like they were a dog was very unappealing to the young man. But he didn't want to cause any friction with these people; they were already watching him carefully as it was.

"Sorry…" He mumbled to the winged man as he clipped the chain onto the strange, heavy looking collar that looked out of place on that slender neck. His only answer was silence and a piercing glare, so he turned away to follow the guard out of the back entrance of the building and into an ominous looking parking garage.

The man stopped and indicated towards a black car, one of the only ones in the parking lot, with a few men standing around it. Apparently this would be Alfred's escort. Lovely.

"Get in." The guard said simply, and Alfred swallowed and nodded, starting to step forward. He didn't feel comfortable with this, but he didn't really think he had much of a choice in this matter, especially when he glanced towards the pistols that were attached to every man's hip.

The winged man, however, had a different idea. He halted right where he was, then pulled back hard, his wings fluttering in their bonds as he twisted and snarled in a desperate bid to escape. Alfred yelped and grabbed onto the chain with both hands, struggling hard to keep hold. This man was definitely a lot stronger than he looked.

"Stop it!" Alfred said desperately, trying to reign in more of the chain. "You're going to get yourself hurt!"

As if on cue, the collar around the man's neck started up a strange whining, buzzing noise. And then he was collapsing onto his knees, his body wracking in shudders as he cried out slightly in pain. The noise seemed to make things worse, and it wasn't long before the man was on his hands and knees, panting and shuddering in agony. Alfred watched on in horror, his mouth agape but no words escaping he didn't know what he would say.

Finally, after a few moments of silent suffering, the torture seemed to stop. The winged man was left gasping and quivering. One of the guards snorted and stepped forward to take the chain from Alfred.

"Get up." He demanded, pulling hard at the lead and forcing the winged man onto his feet. Green eyes hazed with pain opened from their screwed shut position and glanced over at Alfred, and Alfred wasn't sure what exactly the look meant, but he didn't at all like it.

"W-what….what was that?" The boy asked shakily, looking to the guard with widened eyes.

"Ah, that is what happens when pets act up." The bulky man replied with a slight grin. "They get punished. If this thing moves around too much or makes a sound, this pretty little collar..." He pulled the winged man close enough to tap the collar as he explained, "will send electricity coursing straight through him. Quite the technology, isn't it?"

Alfred still looked disturbed and a little pale and the guard shook his head in amusement, "If it bugs you that much, then just take it off when you get home. We'll give you the key for it." He pulled the chain again and led the winged man forward towards the car, where another man was holding the back door open. Then he yanked the lead hard and sent the smaller man stumbling in front of him, so he could push him harshly into the back seat. "But I warn you. This one's quite the handful." He said, looking over his shoulder at Alfred with a wry smile.

Alfred paused for a moment, and then nodded slowly, pushing his glasses further up his nose with a slightly shaking hand. "Y-yeah….right…." He had never felt so out of place in his life, and not for the first time tonight he wondered exactly what it was he was doing here. What he had gotten himself into.

"Alright then, get in the car." The guard said in a firm, slow voice, as if talking to a child. "You're not the brightest bulb, are you boy?"

The teenager bristled at that, but ultimately said nothing as he moved towards the car with no small amount of trepidation. He hesitated for a moment outside of the door, but another guard promptly shoved him inside. Alfred yelped as he fell partially over the winged man, causing the other to growl and pull away as much as he could.

"Very graceful." Said the man Alfred was now assuming was the lead guard here, grinning sharply. "Now that we're all in place, let's get going, shall we?" He slipped into the passenger seat and spoke in a low, hushed voice to the driver. Alfred strained to hear, but couldn't pick up anything substantial. Then he realized that he was still lying partially in the winged man's lap and he bolted up immediately, stammering an apology that got nothing but a cold green glare in return.

"Tell us your address, boy, so we can drop you off and you can write us a nice, big check." The guard said smoothly, turning his head to look at the two in the back seat. "And don't try to lie. Because we'll find out the truth, don't you worry about that. And then we'll make you regret it."

Alfred swallowed thickly and looked down at his clenched fists that were resting in his lap. Telling these people that sort of information could come back to haunt him later. What if he was putting himself in more danger? What if he was putting Mattie in danger?"

"I'm waiting." The guard snapped, narrowing his eyes into a piercing stare. Alfred jumped a bit and then blurted out his address immediately. The way he figured it, it was either get himself in trouble now, or buy himself some time so he could come up with a plan if need be.

"Good, now that wasn't so hard, was it? And Brooklyn Heights too, you must be seriously loaded kid." The large man said condescendingly, his smile harsh and not at all reassuring. Then he turned back to face front and gave instructions to the driver. "Let's go, as fast as you can."

Alfred glared daggers at the back of the guard's head, his jaw clenching as he clamped down on the anger that was rising. He wanted to yell at this man, to start a fight, to throw fists. He wanted to….

A kick to his ankle dragged the boy back to reality, and he looked over to meet the intense stare of the winged man. Those bushy eyebrows were furrowed completely, and he was scowling at Alfred in a way that conveyed an all-too-familiar message: 'Don't be stupid'.

And that one look was all it took to make Alfred feel like a scolded little child, and he snorted and looked down at his fists again. He didn't know who this man was, but he had a feeling that this wouldn't be the last time he was made to feel this way.

The car started moving, out of the parking lot and into the street-light dotted night. Alfred occasionally glanced out the window, if only to distract himself from what was going on. He didn't think the full extent of what he'd gotten himself into had hit him yet, especially if what Aiden had said about this organization was true. The boy swallowed down his fear and tried not to panic as he searched for a way to breach the tension that was building in the car.

He turned almost desperately to look at the winged man, whose gaze was firmly locked on the seat in front of him in an unrelenting stare, his body finally rid of the shivers of residual pain. Alfred shifted nervously as he watched, feeling that uncomfortable, squirming sensation build up inside of him, the one that usually was an indicator that he was about to blurt out something very, very strange. That was something Alfred often did to fill awkward silences, and habits were a very hard thing to break.

"So…." He started, laughing nervously as the winged man turned his head slowly to look at him. "Do you….speak English?"

The glower that was shot his way would have sent most grown men running, and Alfred gulped and looked away, deciding that for once, maybe silence really was the best course of action.

Well. This was going to be fun.


End file.
